


Worst Place, Worst Time

by KissingLizard



Category: Back to the Future (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Canon divergence - Doc didn't fall in love with Clara, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Robbery, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8898952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissingLizard/pseuds/KissingLizard
Summary: When Marty gets killed during a daytime robbery whilst shopping with his mom, Doc jumps into the Delorean to prevent this from happening.In his haste to prevent disaster, he doesn't stop to think of his own safety before taking action.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A few quick notes before we begin:
> 
> 1\. This is POST-Movie 3, everything happened as in the movie except that Doc didn't fall in love with Clara and instead he traveled back to 1985 with Marty.
> 
> 2\. The DeLorean is in proper working order.
> 
> 3\. I'm not sure if I've made the right choice when I decided the robbers wouldn't get names. If the story is confusing because of this, please leave a comment and I will try to change this.

Saturday, December 14, 1985

2.47 PM

 

Marty had thought about this before: He might be the king of worst time, worst place. The first time he had thought about this was when he was 14 and Needles had told his friends “Let's stuff the first nerd we see into this locker.” right when Marty rounded the corner.  
Marty had spent over an hour in that locker before he got released. He had fallen onto the floor when it got opened up because after twenty minutes Marty's leg had started cramping up so bad he couldn't control it when there was suddenly space for the appendage to move.

Many other examples of worst time, worst place followed, several famous ones are: Getting hit by a car at the exact moment your parents are supposed to meet and fall in love, thereby preventing them from meeting properly. Being in the middle of the street in 1885 when a dangerous lunatic wants to hang you, and getting stuck in 1955 at the exact moment your past you is leaving 1955.  
The odds of these events happening were incredibly small and yet they'd all happened to the worlds most time-traveled teen.

Despite having considered this notion before, Marty hadn't gathered enough proof to be absolutely sure he was the universal centerpiece of _worst place, worst time_. Right now though, at this moment in time, Mart was incredibly sure he was.

Marty found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. A gun that was pointed straight at him. He had his arms lifted limply above his head as a sign of surrender as he stared at the weapon. Behind him was his mother, also gaping at the weapon and behind her were almost all the other people that had been in the store when the two robbers walked in.  
Up until a few hours before, Marty had been having an average day. Around ten in the morning, Lorraine had pulled Marty aside. Marty had been about to leave for Doc's place, he had already called ahead to tell Doc he was coming over, but his plans got canceled because Marty's mother had taken one look at the shoes Marty was holding and had exclaimed that he needed new ones.

Marty couldn't disagree. The shoes he'd been holding were the Nike's he'd worn on his trip to the past, those shoes had seen 1955, 2015 (but only briefly) and 1885. 1885 had been a disaster for them. Ever since he'd returned from the past the shoes had a distinctive red and dusty tint that Marty couldn't get off, making them seem unevenly discolored.  
Marty had also taken precautions to prevent the shoes from falling apart any more than they already had by putting duct-tape on them. Lorraine did not approve of this and so she told Marty they would spend the day at the lone-pine mall buying new shoes, _and_ maybe also some jeans, _and_ a new shirt for the holidays and Dave also needed new underwear. 

At this point, Marty had cut his mom off. He had tried to explain he was already on his way somewhere, but his mother wouldn't have it. They were leaving for the mall right this instant. Marty had taken the time to call Doc again and explain the situation. Doc had been disappointed to hear that his friend wouldn't come by, but he couldn't disagree with Lorraine; Marty could use some new shoes.  
Marty promised doc he would try to come by in the evening or _whatever._ After this brief conversation, Marty grabbed his jacket and sat himself down in his mom's car.

Three stores later Marty had been uninterestedly staring at a stack of shirts at the JCPenney his mom had dragged him into when he heard a commotion near the entrance of the store. Marty turned and moved to check it out and then he witnessed the beginning or a robbery.  
Why two guys would rob a JCPenney on a busy Saturday was a mystery to Marty. He was close to the cash register when one of the robbers had pulled a gun and aimed it at the girl behind the counter. The poor girl shrieked and panicked, flailing her arms around. Marty, realizing in hindsight that he was incredibly stupid, had stepped in front of the gun and had attempted to stop the two robbers by yelling “Wow- Wow- Stop!”  
This is when the gun got aimed at Marty's face. Behind him he had heard his mother gasp in terror, she had tried to move towards her son in an attempt to protect him, but the other robber had also taken out a gun and pointed it at her. Lorraine had stopped her rescue-attempt right that instant. The robber that wasn't aiming at Marty had moved the gun between Lorraine and the shop-girl, telling the stylish young woman behind the counter to “hand over the cash and nobody gets hurt!” loudly, so that everyone in the store could hear.

A silence had spread through the store, all eyes were on the robbers and their shiny guns. Marty had two thoughts. His first thought was that he was incredibly stupid for stepping in front of a gun. His second thought was the thought that Marty Seamus McFly was definitely the king of worst place at the worst time throughout all history _ever_.

The two robbers wore face-masks but had their eyes uncovered. As soon as Marty had worked up the courage to take his eyes of the gun's barrel he inspected the Robber's face that was in front of him. He had gray eyes that were bloodshot and moving all over the place. The guy seemed tense, he was gripping his gun so hard his knuckles had turned white.

To Marty's horror, the robber's finger was on the gun's trigger. Marty had a strong desire to peel the guy's hand away from the trigger, but refrained from doing this, because he desired to _live_.  
Doc had spent almost 3 hours talking about trigger discipline in 1885, despite Marty already knowing about it. After Doc's careful explanation of gun safety, which included stories where people shot their mothers, friends or baby's, Marty had told Doc he got it and if they could please talk about something else now.

During one of Doc's stories, the man had explained to Marty what happened to a human brain when it got shot from close by. Marty had told Doc back then that despite it being incredibly gruesome he was almost interested in seeing it happen. Marty wasn't interested anymore.

Robber two, who had been yelling at the shop girl to _“gimme the goddamn money”_ also didn't know trigger-discipline and was waving his gun around like it was the small American flag Marty had held during the last 4th of July. Robber two seemed a lot calmer than robber one, his posture was almost relaxed as he yelled and swore at the girl.

The girl had been fiddling with the register, but had managed to get it open and was shoved aside by the second robber.

“What the fuck is this shit?! Huh?”

The robber looked into the register and had found maybe 800 Dollars, which was probably not the amount of money he was after. After glancing at the moderate pile of cash he'd turned towards the poor girl he'd pushed into the counter.

Upon being pushed aside the girl had sunk to her knees in terror. She had curled herself up in a small ball against the counter and had continued crying and shaking there.

“There is a safe here, isn't there?!”

The girl had started sobbing, shaking her head. “No.” she managed between sobs “I can't reach it, only the store-manager can. She's not here.” The poor girl's voice had gotten softer and softer as she progressed through her shaky sentence. Only Marty, the robbers and maybe Marty's mom could've heard what she'd said. The girl tried to curl up into herself more as if she was trying to sink through the floor.

Robber 2 stared at the girl and pressed the barrel of the gun against her skull. The girl whaled in fear begging the man not to shoot, but the robber ignored her and turned toward the robber that was still standing way too close to Marty for comfort.

“Did you hear what this _bitch_ said?” Robber 2 shouted so loud that even robber 1 started. Robber 2's body language screamed irritation and aggression.  
Marty swallowed thickly and watched the armed man carefully. Whilst the man pointing a gun at him seemed very uncertain about the situation at hand, robber 2 seemed ready to shoot the girl. Despite the barrel staring him down Marty couldn't worry about his life when the girl's life seemed in so much more danger.

Robber 2 turned back towards the girl and poked her with the gun again.

“Gimme more money or I'll shoot you in the _fucking_ head!”

Marty inspected the robber, he would actually do it. The young woman had pressed back against the counter as far as she could, she stared at the man with fat tears rolling down her cheeks. Her breathing was uneven and stuttered with how panicked the girl was, leaving her gasping for air. The aggressive robber now stood so close his knees were almost touching her. He towered over her and had his gun ready, finger still on the trigger, safety off. Even from where Marty was watching the scene, he could see the almost animal-level of aggression etched into the Robber's face behind the mask.

The robber in front of Marty still had his gun aimed at him, but he was so focused on his partner in crime his eyes were no longer on Marty.

Marty took a deep breath and cursed himself for what he was going to do. Marty took a step towards Robber number two when a sudden shout made him freeze in place.

A loud, clear and extremely calm voice had shouted from close to the entrance. It had said only one word: “Stop!”

As one every head in the store turned towards the man standing at the entrance. Marty felt like he was hit by a truck made out of solid steel: All his hairs stood on end, a cold shiver ran down his back and he gasped. Before he could even begin to wonder why Doc was in a JCPenney's Doc spoke again:

“I'll open the safe for you. Step away from the children.”

Marty almost felt annoyed that Doc would call him a child, but he understood Doc's tactics; The robbers looked at Marty and the shivering girl at the cash register and seemed to realize only now how young their hostages were. The robber that had Marty at gunpoint cautiously took a step back but kept his gun aimed at him.

Robber two had pointed his gun at Doc as soon as he'd spoken. By the time Marty had turned, Doc was already holding arms above his head. Despite his always panicked looking style of fashion: wild hair, big eyes and a _mess_ of clashing patterns for clothes, Marty could see that Doc was very calm. He kept his eyes on the Robber that had him at gunpoint.

“I'll get you the real cash,” Doc repeated calmly. “I'll break open the safe underneath the register, you can take the money.” Robber two stared him down, thinking about the proposition. Everybody in the store seemed to hold their breath.

“Come closer old man.”

The simple statement was blurted out with an intensity that reminded Marty of the chimpanzees he had watched a documentary about during Biology last week. Doc took slow and cautious steps closer towards the cash register and towards Marty. For the first time, Marty could catch Doc's gaze and while Doc took baby steps closer towards him their eyes met.  
Doc only looked Marty in the eyes for a few seconds before he blinked and looked back at the robber. The look in his eyes Marty knew as one of pure focus: Doc was calculating. What, Marty didn't know, but he could almost hear the cogs turning in Doc's head.

After what felt like an eternity Doc stood next to Marty. Robber two had hopped over the counter and stood next to robber one, right in front of Marty and Doc. Each robber had their gun pointed at one of them.

Doc turned his head slightly and looked at Marty again. Marty caught his gaze and tried to interpreter Doc's frantic eye movements. Doc was trying to tell Marty something but Marty had no idea what it was till Doc moved his entire head towards the two robbers in a movement that reminded Marty way too much of the look the duo had shared when Doc's horses had gotten upset in 1885 and they had to swoop in to calm them down, that had been dangerous. But not as dangerous as this.

Marty reacted with an expression that he hoped conveyed what he wanted to say, namely: “What?!”

Doc lifted his eyebrows and nodded his head ever so slightly. His eyes set on Marty and then on robber number one, who was still closest to Marty. Then he glanced down at himself and looked at Robber number two.

Marty wanted to shake his head, declining the plan hoping that instead, they could create a plan that did not include being shot today.  
Before Marty was done moving his head left to right Doc had nodded his head once more, subtlety, and the hands he still had lifted above his head twitched. Marty looked at them and realized he was looking at a countdown. The plan was set, somehow, and it would be set into action in only 4 more seconds.

This entire “conversation” which had been held entire through facial expressions had lasted only about 4 seconds. The robber in charge had started screaming at Doc again, ordering him to get that safe open in his terrifyingly loud raspy voice. The moment the Robber's command was finished Doc closed his fist and Mart realized that this was his cue to get going.

Marty moved into action. Doc had started moving as soon as his last finger had moved down and turned his hand into a fist. That fist came down at great speed and came into rough contact with robber 1's face, sending him careening backward. Meanwhile, Marty jumped into a more grounded position, he'd leaned down to avoid Doc's swinging elbow and then made eye-contact with the robber he was meant to take down. The man looked terrified behind his mask. He hadn't realized what was happening yet but he knew something had changed. He was no longer in charge.  
Marty kicked robber 1 in the hand and send the gun flying right out of the robber's hand. The gun went flying straight up.

As Doc stepped back to catch the gun out of the air Marty dashed forward to press his own fist into the robbers face, which had morphed into a startled expression before Marty's fist punched the expression straight off his face.  
With his shoulders and side, Marty then tackled the robber, toppling him over backward and into the other robber. Marty staggered back onto his feet as quickly as possible and brought his foot down against robber 1's ribs, preventing him from crawling back onto his feet.  
When Marty's dusty reddish Nike's made contact with the robber's ribs he realized he might have just broken someone's bones. The robber gasped for air and Marty watched the robber's face twist in agony.

Marty moved away from this robber, the man was down and would probably stay down for a while.  
He turned towards where the other robber had been and once again stared at the barrel of a gun! Whilst Marty was kicking the shit out of his own victim the other robber had gotten up and had pointed his gun at Marty.

Marty closed his eyes, preparing to finally learn what a brain being shot out of a skull was like.

Marty heard a gunshot, but no bullet entered his skull. Marty waited for a few moments wondering if he was being shot with the world's slowest bullet.  
A horrified scream made Marty open his eyes and he saw the Robber's gun hitting the floor. The robber fell down himself, clutching at his own hand, which was already covered in blood.

Many people in the store screamed and Marty vaguely heard his own name being called out by his mother in terror. But Marty turned away from them and looked at Doc. Doc's right hand was lifted, still aiming the smoking gun at the exact location the robber's hand had just been. His eyes were open wide, moving from the gun that was now resting on the floor to Marty. Little specks of the Robber's blood had landed on the teen's face, but Doc honestly couldn't care about that. Marty looked at him, his blue eyes bright, terrified and _thankful_.

Marty stepped away from the robbers, and Doc lowered his gun. A moment later Doc crushed Marty against his chest and he took a breath through his nose as if he'd been underwater too long. Marty attempted to look up, see Doc's face, but one of Doc's hand settled over Marty's hair pressing Marty's nose against Doc's Hawaiian shirt clad shoulder. Doc hunched forward, enveloping Marty.

Marty's heart, which had already been hammering wildly continued on, but with a different rhythm. Marty took a handful of Doc's shirt and tugged at it.

“Lemme go Doc, people are going to wonder.” He whispered it, sharing with Doc that he didn't mind the close contact at all if the situation had been less public, he'd have melted into the man's embrace. But they were in a busy store, and they definitely were the center of attention.

“I love you.” Doc croaked from where his chin rested on Marty's shoulder, only the teen would be able to hear it. Marty's eyebrows shot up, searching for an appropriate answer he could give right there and then. Of course, Marty loved Doc too, but he couldn't exactly find the words to emote this right that instance.

“I couldn't let you die.” Doc seemed wrecked by the words that passed his lips, but he pulled away from the hug anyway, shortly after he had started it. He held Marty at arm's length in what to the surrounding public would look like a comforting gesture.

Marty felt captivated by Doc eyes, which had an emotional shine to them that Marty had barely ever seen before. Marty's arms had been hanging limply by his side during Doc's emotional embrace, too shocked by the information the man had shared with him, but now Marty lifted his arms, they felt heavy like concrete, and placed them on Doc's wrists, squeezing softly.

Marty gaped at his time travel companion, his brain had both understood what Doc had just told him, but was also desperately trying to shut down.

There was only one reason why Doc was here, to prevent Marty from dying as he would have done if Doc hadn't intervened. If Doc hadn't been here Marty would have jumped between the aggressive robber and the young woman. The robber would have pulled the trigger and-

Marty swallowed thickly, he felt his Adam’s apple working in his throat.

The Emmet Brown that stood before him was a man that had abused his time machine to prevent him from dying. Doc looked tired, exhausted even, but a big and sincere smile shone on his face despite his weary eyes. Knowing he would've been dead left Marty shaking. His mouth hung open, but he was unable to speak.

Only a moment later Marty was violently ripped from Doc's grip by Lorraine. Marty's mother wrapped Marty into a tight hug. Marty moved with her and pressed his hands onto her back but he kept gaping at Doc despite his frantic mother. Doc stepped back, letting the teen be wrapped into his mothers embrace. He looked remarkably proud of himself to be standing next to them. The man placed his arms behind his back and calmly waited, but did not step away till police arrived to attempt to make heads or tails of the situation. Doc was questioned but was released by authorities before night fell.

\----- 

That evening Marty sat at the dining table surrounded by his family lamely stirring his food around on his plate and he thought of Doc alone in his garage, sharing a meal with Einstein. Marty smiled at his plate because of the vision, wishing he could join them in his fantasy. His family might've seen the small smile on his lips, but if they had they didn't ask him about it and the casual conversation the youngest son had excluded himself from continued.

\-----

Later that night Marty lay on his back. He had gone to bed over an hour ago but somehow he couldn't close his eyes. The teen had kicked off his covers a while ago and even though the cold air tingled unpleasantly on his bare skin Marty felt trapped within his small room. Marty silently got up and walked around the house. Linda and Dave had left to drink beer and go dancing or some shit. Marty didn't really care.  
His mother had gone to bed around eleven, being a strong believer of early to bed and early to wake… some bullshit about being smart and pretty Marty couldn't really remember.  
From behind a firmly shut door, Marty could hear his father tapping away on his typewriter. Marty looked around the living room for a moment but he couldn't get himself to settle on the couch and watch television. A quick look in the fridge confirmed that he wasn't hungry either.

As if led by an invisible force Marty returned to his room where he waited for a solid minute doing nothing, before he gathered some clean clothes. Marty felt restless and the best remedy for anxiety, to Marty, was to spend time with the most twitchy guy he knew. Marty had said this morning that he would try to visit Doc in the evening. Marty disregarded his own mind reminding him that midnight didn't count as _evening_ and he walked out the door, grabbed his board and made his way to Doc's place. When he got close he saw that the lights were on. Doc was never one to go to bed early unless he was sick. Doc hadn't been sick since the rejuvenation treatment he'd gotten done in 2015. Marty didn't expect him to get sick anytime soon either. The teen figured the common cold would be cured by 2015, but he didn't dwell on this thought as he tugged at the chain-link fence and found it locked.

Marty sighed to himself and set to work. Jiggling the fence till Doc heard it and opened the door to let him in wouldn't work; when Doc was focused on anything he was like a deaf man. Marty had learned this pretty soon after getting to know the man and had started touching his hand to Doc's back or shoulder when he didn't respond to sound. Doc always reacted to Marty's touch the same way: First, the man would relax his shoulders where Marty touched him and then he'd turn his head towards Marty, gawking at the young man in a strangely owl-like manner.

Knowing Doc's working hours he probably wouldn't be responsive to any noise Marty could make unless he somehow got his hands on a cannon and set it off just outside the garage. Marty didn't have the cash to buy a cannon.  
It was moments like this that Marty wished they still had those walkie-talkie's Doc had bought in the future. Instead, Marty put his skateboard on the sidewalk and slipped it underneath the chain-link fence. Next, he grabbed onto the fence and climbed over it with skilled ease.  
Marty took his skateboard back under his arm and walked up to the door and knocked on the door out of politeness. He didn't actually expect Doc to answer the door and he had already kicked the doormat aside to grab the key when the door flew open and Doc's curious gaze fell on his friend.

“Marty?”

“Doc, I- er. Hi!”

“It's almost-” Doc pulled down one sleeve to inspect a row of three very different watches. “Almost 1 AM.” Doc concluded. The man looked up from his wrist and inspected Marty with worry. The younger man was pale and slightly clammy. His eyes, which were as piercingly blue as always wouldn't meet his gaze. Marty attempted to explain himself but fell silent.

“You feel anxious?”  
Even though Doc said it as if asking a question the man had taken the conclusion he was right as soon as Marty moved to respond. The young man didn't reply even though his lips moved as if he was talking. In the end, he just shrugged awkwardly.

Without another word, Doc stepped aside and his friend stepped past him into the garage's yellow glow. Doc closed the door behind them and placed one hand carefully against Marty's forehead. The teen was clammy, something he was prone to when nervous or anxious but his temperature was normal. Marty turned, facing Doc and looked up at the hand gently resting against his forehead.

“I'm not sick you know?” Despite this Marty made no move to remove the man's hand. He stood his ground and looked from underneath the hand on his forehead to his friend's face.

Doc moved his hand from gently resting against Marty's forehead down, till his hand cupped the right side of Marty's face. His thumb, which was coarse and rough from heavy mechanical work rubbed softly up and down Marty's cheekbone. Marty's lips parted as he took a steady breath. The duo looked at each other for a moment in silence.

“You'll never know how happy I am to see you standing in front of me.” Doc said softly.

“Doc, I-”

“Don't speak Marty!” Marty shut his mouth without putting up a fight.

“When I saw the news that Saturday- This Saturday. Murder in Lone-pine mall, four dead and several injured. I- I fell off my chair.” Doc took a moment to swallow thickly. His thumb stilled on Marty's cheek.

“I turned the volume up so high Einstein started whining. I caught as many details as I could. They would've shot you, straight in the chest.” Marty felt like looking down at his shirt, checking for blood, but the sturdy hand on his cheek prevented him from doing so.

“You tried to save a young woman.” Marty's mental eye reminded him of the pretty JcPenney's cashier. “But they shot her too.” Doc closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose.

“I left right away, didn't bring anything. I just started the DeLorean and went to you. As you might've noticed I didn't really have a plan when I interrupted the burglary.” Doc opened his deep brown eyes again, so dark in the soft lighting of the garage they almost seemed black.

“I figured I'd either stop you from dying or I'd end up dying myself. I was a fool.” Marty had grabbed onto Doc's shirt tightly, his knuckles turning white.

“I had no plan. I just can't think straight without you Marty.”

Marty tugged at the ugly Hawaiian shirt roughly, Doc's hand left his face and Marty almost dived at Doc's chest. He wrapped his arms around Doc's torso and pressed his nose into the weathered cotton of Doc's shirt. Marty felt one of Doc's arms wrap around his shoulders, pressing their bodies together. Doc's other hand cupped the back of Marty's head and pressed Marty's face gently into his shoulder.  
Doc fingers settled in Marty's windblown hair. He bowed his head and pressed his lips against the crown of Marty's head, his nose buried in unruly brown locks.  
  
Marty started crying, warm tears soaking through the fabric his face was pressed against. Marty would've loved to express how thankful he was, how badly he wanted to live, but for several minutes Marty simply leaned into Doc and cried. Doc's hand gently rubbed circles on the crying teen's back.

As Marty attempted to gather himself he listened to Doc, kindly murmuring at him, telling him that it was alright to cry like this, to let it all out, that he would hold him through everything. After what felt like an embarrassingly long time Marty found the power to look up at Doc. The man smiled at him with an expression that was so kind and caring Marty almost broke down and started crying all over again. Marty swallowed his last few tears and he spoke, his voice awkwardly high pitched and shaky.

“I love you _too_ , Doc.”

Doc's kind smile spread from just his lips up to his eyes. Marty smiled back, his cheeks feeling strangely tight because of the drying wetness. Doc moved closer and Marty angled his face up so that the duo could share a short kiss that was wet for all the wrong reasons.

After only a short moment Doc pulled back from the kiss and his hand moved from Marty's neck, back towards his cheek. He gently rubbed at them.

“I doubt your parents will be happy when they figure out you've left...But would you stay? For tonight?”

Marty found his voice more reliable this time.

“If you set an alarm at ass-o-clock in the morning I can sneak back home before Mom notices I'm gone.”

“Ass-o-clock” Doc mumbled to himself before he disentangled himself from Marty's embrace. Marty felt like following the man toward the wall filled with unusual clocks but Doc's words prevented him from doing so.

“Get yourself ready for bed. I'll set the alarm.”

Minutes later the duo found themselves between Doc's old, but luckily almost clean sheets. Marty had pressed up against Doc once more, his face pressed against the man's white undershirt. Doc's hand settled on Marty's back and softly rubbed at Marty tense shoulders.

“You need rest.”

Marty nodded and yawned, his breath warm against Doc's shoulder. Marty's eyelids felt too heavy for him to open his eyes again, so with his eyes closed, Marty moved to kiss Doc good night. His kiss ended up slightly off center. But the tired teen deemed it sufficient before he settled again.

Doc didn't stop rubbing Marty between his shoulder blades until he felt those shoulders relax and the teen's breathing evened out against his collar bone. It didn't take long.

Doc yawned, feeling absolutely drained and fell asleep.


End file.
